Love Untamed
by CLASSICDUH
Summary: As it always is, Erik finds himself in a mental battle trying to find a way he can get the only woman he desires to love him in return. After the raunchy opera he composed has been performed, he kidnaps her once again and drags her to the his abode where the drama continues to play out. However, Raoul doesn't have the help of Madame Giry to find her.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I apologize for not writing in a while. My romantic life has really fired up and I find inspiration all the time. The problem is the amount of time I have. However, thanks for your patience and calmly enjoy this new story.**

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter One ~**_

It had finally became clear to me that love never came without cost. I always knew this deep inside, but never have I thought more than once of it. The realization came to me when I saw her kissing him; my mind could not take such torture. I yearned deeply for her; everything I had to offer, except a handsome body, was what she wanted. I cried inside knowing that she would never love me back; for who could love a man so hideous. I knew what I had to do; force her. But no, that would only cause her to loathe me more. There was no possible way that she could ever love a man like me.

After my mental argument, she eloped with her lover and left a flower beside the statue of Hades. I emerged from the back of Apollo's statue and suddenly felt the tears I held back slide down my cheeks. It was my flower, the deep red rose I had given her after the lovely performance. Running my gloved fingers up the stem, I cried and pressed the petals to my lips. I found myself wishing that the petals of the rose would be her lips, but that was disappointingly impossible. Getting kissed, let alone admired by her, was too great of a miracle.

As I imagined them once again, kissing and cuddling, I became angry. Suddenly the jealous beast within me came out and I felt the fire under my eyes. I began to recall the masquerade party tonight and smiled at the thought. Yes, my brain had thundered, she will pay for what she has done; what trauma she has caused.

* * *

My sword, slipped into place at last moment, was on the left side of my waist. I smiled inwardly and glanced at my appearance in the tall mirror hanging on the wall. How disgustingly evil I was, indeed. Turning around I saw no one in the halls and walked out quietly so I wouldn't cause too big of a commotion, though I didn't care. The pearl white floor was just ahead and I knew that soon I would make the biggest entrance of the year. The new year would start with torment from the opera ghost; the most raunchiest of operas to be staged would come to life in _my_ theater.

Once I stood at the top of the staircase, the orchestra had stopped; quarter notes and trills being the last outbursts from anyone. I glanced at my 'audience' and found my muse and her lover at the bottom; she was obviously stunned. I pulled an enormous folder out of my cape and they all scurried away as I slowly marched down stairs towards the managers.

"Oh, why must you all run like mice?! My only hope is to give you a few words of advice. Beginning with my managers," they cowered in fear at my very breath; it was so delightful, "First, I would like to point out that your place is in an office. Not on the stage. Second, I'd like to give you this. My opera; Don Juan Triumphant!" I scowled at them and tossed the score at their feet, "It shall be the greatest thing you ever heard," laughing lowly, almost growling, I strolled towards Piangi, "Monsieur Piangi, if you are to be Don Juan, you must truly loose some weight. It is terrible for the appeal of the character," beside him was Carlotta, gasping at what I had said, "Oh, had I forgotten? Madame la Carlotta is _not_ the star. Her acting is far too dry."

Finally, walking closer to her, I only twirled my hand. She came at my whim and I smiled at the control I had over her, "As for Mademoiselle Daáe," she paused a moment, turning pink when she was too close. The blush had spread quickly down her body and I noticed a ring hanging on a chain around her neck. Once again the jealous beast within me had bested my otherwise 'gentleman-like' nature. With a growl I ripped the chain from her neck, "Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!"

I threw the chain to the ground and threw down a special 'mix' I had in my vest. I fell through one of my trap-doors and closed it quickly before anyone else could get in. However, that did nothing. The de Chagny boy fell through the trapdoor and into the hall of mirrors with me. He obviously did not know how to get out of such a trap; his expression of pure confusion was enough to tell such. I laughed menacingly at his confusion, "Going anywhere, Monsieur Vicomte?!"

"Fight back, you coward!"

"Coward, am I?" I threw one of my lasso's around his neck and let it hang just to get the message across. He eyed the rope anxiously and wriggled out of its grasp when a hand belonging to an older woman had pulled him out of the trap. My fun had ended.

Still standing in the trap, I had taken off my mask and examined the grotesque features of my right side. The gash in my temple had started bleeding again and I knew that I had experienced too much activity because of it. My upper lip had swelled slightly and turned blood-red. I stared at myself in disgust; how would Christine ever get past this? In order to win her love I would have to force her, or perhaps just kill the boy and she would have no other choice. Either one would be cruel, but it would be a miracle if she could actually love me for me.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Two ~**_

My brilliant Don Juan Triumphant was on stage and I finally came up with an excellent plan that was sure to work. This would the final number and I just couldn't let Piangi take this opportunity to touch Christine in such a way. So, when he comes backstage to 'set up Don Juan's bedchambers', I will bash him and take his place. I waited patiently, like a dog for its master, and heard the applause as he finished the phrase. Once backstage, he sighed, talking about the only thing he actually liked in this opera was getting to touch a young beauty like her. Bashing him was the last thing on my mind and out of my anger, I jumped from the rafters with my lasso in hand. Quickly, I threw the rope around his neck and yanked hard.

That was that. He didn't make a sound; only fell onto the floor in a dead mass. I heard Christine finish her phrase and I smiled, taking the cloak off of Piangi and tossing it over myself. I made extra sure to fluff the cloak out so no one would notice. Afterwards, I entered the stage and began the serenade of seduction. Which it truly was. She turned at my voice and seemed to sense something wrong, smart girl. However, it would be too hard to not humiliate yourself by getting off stage. Even she understood that.

Singing to her about such things was not in my area of expertise, however I would get used to it. She seemed to be liking the song; her eyes were closed and she bit at the corner of her lip quite often. It probably didn't help that I had a firm grip on her waist.

When it was her turn to sing, I slipped away from her slowly and watched the words began to take form on her lips. She sweetly echoed each note and made it sound almost as if it were a lament. I could tell how nervous she was; after each phrase she eyed the portion of the cloak covering my head. Even though I was on a bench, a few steps away, I could almost feel her tension. The orange gown she wore that went no longer than her knee flowed with each step she took and soon, I felt the skirt rubbing against my back. It was in the stage direction to do exactly this and once again, she trembled terribly. Singing sweetly into my ear, then towards the audience, she cautiously touched my face and finally felt the cold porcelain that was my mask.

She quickly finished her line and edged away from me, but the opera had to be finished. I grabbed both of her wrists and she struggled, trying hard to resist my strength. There was nowhere else for her to go when I finally had her close enough. At her last lyric, she pushed back the cloak to reveal me to the audience. I hadn't had the chance to look around before, but when I did, I notice several commissares, all with weapons, pointing towards me. There was no way out of this...without a captive, that is. I finally realized that I could give her the ring; it would be the perfect time.

After thinking it through, I took her hand and slid the ring onto her ring finger. She stared at the golden band confused and before I knew it, she yanked off my mask. Not only did the mask come off, but the hairpiece did also. I was exposed into shame, but this would not last. Without thinking, I cut the rope I had set up on stage and the chandelier rattled for a moment or two before falling down. I wasn't present to witness the great explosion because I had to rush Christine to my home before anyone else could see us. I remembered how Madame Giry knew the way, but she only knew one. There were several ways to the catacombs and luckily the chandelier blocked her path.

I opened up a trapdoor on the floorboards and fell through with Christine. She wasn't fighting me as much anymore, and it was probably because the only way she knew out of here was blocked. She still struggled against me, but I knew she would give up eventually. I jumped with her into the water, since there was really no use for the gondola anyways, and swam quickly back to my abode.

She was coughing by the time I got her up, shivering in her cold and wet gown. There was no time for pity, though. Sadly, those idiots above would find a way in somehow, "Get up!" she didn't obey, she only eyed me like I was a madman, "Come on, Christine! Get up!" she still didn't obey, "Fine! It seems I'll have to dress you myself."

"No!" She was quick to obey now, but that was only because I would have to see her unclothed in order to dress her warmly. I chuckled, grabbed the wedding gown, and stuffed it in her hand, "I won't wear it!"

"Would you rather freeze?!"

She glared at me with a cold look not suiting to her, "I'd rather freeze than be your bride."

I would not have her die; she did not deserve it. Then again, she didn't deserve a life with me, either. I suddenly didn't pity her, though. The only thing I had in mind was that she would finally be my wife, in life or death. I took the gown out of her hand and wrestled her to the floor, ripping apart the delicate threads the held her costume together. She whimpered, trying her best to get away, but I wouldn't have it. I took her hands and my lasso, which happened to be in my trousers conveniently enough, and bound them together tightly.

She still fought her hardest, using her feet to kick at my manhood. No matter how much it pained me, I still managed to turn her over. She no longer had that advantage. I untied the laces on her corset and threw it savagely into the lake. All of her wet garments now discarded, I slipped her into the wedding gown and quickly fastened the five bows at the back. I pulled her to her feet and she spat at me; but I really didn't care. I wiped her saliva away with my handkerchief and threw it down to the floor. At this point, she had no means of escape. Her hands were tied, her exit was blocked, and there was no way she could get out by herself.

"You'll never get away with this!" she rasped, "Raoul will find us. And he'll have you killed!"

"Oh, really! When was I ever frightened of some daft boy!? I could kill him faster than he could blink!"

It was really a cruel truth; I probably could kill him in a second. But what would that prove, especially to someone I dearly love?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Three ~**_

It had been a fortnight since I took her captive. She still spat at me, still swore on my name, still hated me to death. The only difference, even though she denied it, was she did this for no reason. This day I spent on the rafters, watching as a repair crew worked on the chandelier. There was no fire, as I thought there would be, instead there was a bunch of angry theater folk. This had been the second time I crashed their precious chandelier; however, worse things could happen.

Today, I focused my attention on the Chagny boy. He didn't seem to care so much about Christine anymore, as he had another lady with him that he was fondling around with. Christine had to see this, she had to know about her precious, cheating lover. I took my shortcut down the rafters, through the floorboards, and down a secret passage way Christine did not know about in order to get back to her. When I returned, she glared at me for a while before I could finally speak, "I just saw Raoul with another woman."

"I don't believe you. You would probably say anything to-"

"No! You know what, I am tired of this! I guess if you won't believe me, you'll have to believe the visuals."

I picked her off the floor and traveled with her through the secret passageway. Going up the rafters again was slightly challenging, as I had to carry her with me. I shoved her to the edge and let her relish in the view of the vicomte with his girly toy. Except now, they were kissing, which made the situation even worse. I could see the shock in her expression, she couldn't believe her boy would do anything like that, "Take me back, Erik. Please."

"Isn't it painful, though? To watch the one you truly love be taken away from you?"

"What do you-"

"I saw you and the boy on the rooftop. It broke my heart, Christine. I thought for once that somebody cared about me and you go and tear my heart into pieces."

She watched the sight of Raoul and that other woman, but didn't seem to be so sad. She looked back at me, then began to cry. A certain side of me came out then and I had to hold her; trusting her enough, I unfastened the rope on her hands. She released me and I saw the marks that the rope had left on her precious wrists. I felt as if I had cut off an angels wings, as if I had taken my own heart out. I didn't realize how badly I hurt her and I began to cry, "Erik is sorry, Christine. So sorry. You don't deserve a monster like him treating you like this. He sets you free, now."

"I don't want to go, now. I have nothing, Erik. Please, take me with you."

I couldn't believe this. After all I did; after crashing the chandelier, after killing two of her co-stars, she still managed to forgive me, "But Erik does not deserve Christine. Erik needs to die."

"Erik does not need to die. Please, I want to go with you."

I smiled, or did so as I could with what tears I still had on my face, "As you wish."

* * *

Later that day, I had prepared a special meal for Christine in hopes that she would forgive me. I finished serving up her plate and when I did, I cried. For some reason, I just couldn't stand myself. After all the things I had done, it was impossible to believe that she didn't truly despise me. I wasn't really used to so much forgiveness.

I dabbed my face with a handkerchief and went out to the dining room (which was hidden behind a small curtain that was behind one of the candelabrum's) with her plate. I set her food down and gently called her name, "Christine, please come."

She stepped into the dining room and stared happily at the food I made her. She smiled and gave me the warmest hug, "Thank you. But aren't you eating?"

"Erik doesn't eat. He doesn't need food."

"That's silly talk. Please, eat with me."

"No, Christine."

I vaguely remembered a moment in my childhood when Javert (the gypsy master who took me as the Devil's child) had forced me to eat a dead, decaying rat. I remember afterwards when I threw it up; ever since, I never ate a thing. My skeletal body is the result of that, "Please. You need some nutrition-"

"I can't! Eating hurts!"

She sighed gently, then grabbed a piece of bread from her plate, "Eat for me. I promise, it won't hurt."

The pain of eating that rat came back to me and I slowly ate the bread she offered. As soon as the food hit my stomach, I coughed. The years of not eating had made my body reject food. I grabbed the nearest container, which was an empty water pitcher, and retched into it. After I finished, I dumped the contents into the lake, kneeling beside it. I felt ashamed, and worse, Christine saw everything, "Are you alright?"

"I told you. Eating hurts."

She had this sort of beautiful glint in her eyes as she looked at me. It made me feel warm inside, "I put the food back. I couldn't stand to eat anything when you're like this."

"You should have eaten without Erik. He told you it would bring him pain."

"Maybe if I made something light for you, you would be able to stomach it."

"That would be wonderful."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I have a really strange affiliation with doing creepy dreams. Anyway, what did you think? Leave reviews, please.**

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Four ~**_

_I was in a dark room surrounded by cruel noises (whips, chains, yells) only to realize that I was in pain. All around was darkness until a bag was flung off of my head. I looked into the eyes of Javert once again and the feelings came back. The pain, the pure torture! Everyone thought it was funny to see some poor child get beaten, especially a hideous child like me._

_Javert hooked a collar around my neck and I was suspended slightly into the air. I examined myself for some reason and I was in my eight-year-old body. I could barely do the things that I do now in a body like this; I was not strong enough. Javert smiled, a cruel smile that was filled with rotten teeth and bad breath. Suddenly, the collar begin to tighten around my throat and luckily, I was smart enough to stuff my hands in, "You want to die, boy?"_

_"No!" I yelped in a child's voice._

_He cackled maniacally, then the chain snapped and I fell onto the ground. The ground was covered in rocks and everywhere I felt the stickiness of my blood. The puncture wounds were bad enough, but the whip to my back was terrible. I heard it, felt it, and smelled it all at once. He did it five times; once on my back, twice on my bottom, and, when I tried to shield myself, three times on my stomach, "Get up, boy!"_

_I shook in fear at what he would do next, "I said get up!"_

_This time he whipped my head; I couldn't take it anymore, "Get up!"_

_I did as he said in fear that I might die. But when I did get up, everything went blank..._

"Erik, please get up!"

I sat up quickly and tried to defend myself (hitting, punching), fearing that he may have come here for some reason, "I swear on my life Javert, if you take one more!-"

"Erik, shh," I felt a dainty hand on mine and took a deep breath. I was obviously going insane.

"Christine?" A candle was all she had to show light on her face. I noticed a hand print on her cheek and tears slowly came to my eyes, "Did Erik hurt you? Oh, he is sorry! Will you forgive?!-"

"Erik is forgiven. It is alright," she held me like a child, gently rubbing my head, but it was sort of nice. She cared for me like a good mother, however I wanted more, "You were screaming in your sleep. You said something about a man named-"

"Please don't talk about that man."

She eyed me for a moment, then smiled, "Alright. But when you're ready, can we?"

"I'll never be ready. He ruined my childhood in so many indescribable ways. I just want to get rid of him," I laughed inwardly, knowing I already did.

"Erik, even though it isn't wise to dwell on the past you must face it. Now please tell me."

I let go of her, but she wouldn't leave me alone about it. She sat on the bed with me and gently held my hand. I gasped at our contact and tried to explain, "At age six, I ran away from my mothers because I was sick of her constant abuse. However, I also ran into a parade of gypsies, which Javert was the leader of. He found me one night when I was trying to sneak some food from a tent, as I hadn't eaten anything in five months. Since I wasn't so strong at that age, he caught up to me and unmasked me. From that moment until age ten I was known as the devils child. Crowds from all over Europe came to see me and they would laugh when I was tortured. They thought it was funny to see some poor, deformed child get the lash of a whip and the constriction of chains. He would make me eat dead things to survive and one time, he made me eat a diseased rat. Ever since then, I haven't eaten anything. However, when I was ten, I killed him and Madame Giry took me here. Crazy, isn't it?"

She could only stare, her eyes glazed with tears. She opened her mouth a minute, then finally spoke, "How could anyone treat a child so poorly? Erik, I had no idea. I thought you were just-"

"What? Making it up? I assure you, it's real. I even have evidence," I said, pointing to my back.

"Let me see?"

"I couldn't subject you to such-"

"Please. I won't ask any more of you."

I thought about how she would react; would she loathe me forever? Would she retch? Would she cry? A sigh was my last reply.

Slowly, I unlaced my shirt and pulled it off. My scarred flesh was bare to her now and it made me feel even more vulnerable. She touched one of the scars ever so gently and I reacted instinctively by huddling against the neck of the swan bed. She couldn't move, her expression was of shock, "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I just," pausing a moment, I watched tears fill her eyes again, "Oh, please, don't cry for Erik. He doesn't deserve your tears."

"I can't help it. How could someone ever do this to you?"

"The world is cruel, Christine. That's why I don't live up there."

She wiped her eyes, then stood up. Christine came closer to me and softly laid her lips on my head. I couldn't believe what had just happen and for a moment, I couldn't move, "Goodnight, Erik."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Five ~**_

The following day was really difficult, especially trying to get the amazing feeling of her lips away from my subconscious whilst playing the organ. She didn't actually kiss me, it was just my head. Then again, I was lucky to get anything like that after the way I treated her. Maybe if I would have killed myself sooner this whole mess wouldn't have happened. Now she is stuck down with me, lonely and unhappy. I just wished there was something I could do to make things better.

Soon, I heard her coming towards me and abruptly stopped playing so she wouldn't have to hear the burning score of Don Juan, "Why did you stop?" she asked, setting a glass of water on the small table beside the organ.

"You don't want to hear this. I'm surprised that you even mustered up courage enough to sing it."

"It's Don Juan, isn't it?"

I looked down at my feet which were still hovering over the petals, "Yes," when I looked into her eyes she smiled and brought her lips to my head again, "What is with this new-found affection?"

"You don't like it?"

"No. Never say that. I love it, but why?"

She grinned, then scanned the room quickly, "To be quite honest, I've had something special for you. I never recognized it until now, but something about you makes me feel good."

"You can't possibly mean that," I took my score off of the stand and stood, towering above her. Granted I was about six and a half feet tall, she was rather dainty.

"But I do."

What did she take me for, a fool? Fool, I am not. There was no way she could ever care about me enough to kiss or hug me, "I cannot believe this."

"What do I have to do to make you believe I love you!?"

She widened her eyes slightly, realizing what she had just yelled. I couldn't believe my ears; she loved me? It was frankly impossible. It couldn't be that way. I slid the score into the pocket of my stool and sank onto the stool once more. My mind was puzzled beyond belief, "It can't be? Erik must be dreaming."

"You aren't dreaming," she knelt in front of me, her gaze very sincere, "I do love you."

"Please tell me this is real. This is too good to be true."

"It is real. I am real. I am yours."

Christine's face inched closer and closer to mine until our lips made contact. It was like an explosion, like nothing I'd ever felt before. She tasted and smelled delicious; her lips were soft and succulent compared to my rough ones, ones that have never been kissed or even touched for that matter. I hoped it would never end, but when it did the last thing I felt was the cold stone floor.

* * *

When I was revived Christine was above me, in my bed. I shot up quickly, because it was so strange to see her so close. I remembered her lips on mine and almost fainted again, if weren't for her, "Are you alright? You took a really nasty fall."

I suddenly realized that my mask was gone; she dabbed gently at my face, all the scars felt more sore than ever. I winced at her hand and she noticed, getting softer pressure, "I-I am fine, Christine."

"I don't believe you are," she said submerging the rag in warm water, "Tell me honestly, Erik. Are you alright?"

I continued to look at her and the guilt filled my body with no remorse, "No. I never thought you would actually do something like that for me."

"I realized lately that you really have done a lot for me. I also know that you have strong feelings and," she paused, glanced at the edge of my jaw, and returned to my eyes after going through her thoughts, "I suppose my feelings are starting to show for you."

"Oh, Christine. I love you so much," I felt the tears roll down my bare cheeks and reached up to touch her cheek. She smiled, then kissed my cheek.

"Please don't cry. You don't need to."

"Only if you promise to never betray me again."

"I do promise. I vow my life to helping you-"

As she finished speaking, there was soft rustling that almost sounded like water splashing. Christine stood up and went out of the room; the only thing I could do was listen to the conversation and make sure nothing was wrong, "It took forever, my darling, but I finally found you."

"Don't touch me. I saw what you did with that courtesan backstage. You broke my heart, Raoul."

"Where is that monster? I need to kill him for brainwashing you."

"You won't lay a hand on him!"

"So he's tricked you into loving him, too!"

"He opened my eyes, Raoul!" Just as things start to go wrong, I was there for her protection.

"Monsieur, if you don't leave this instance I will make sure you never breath again. Now please, go and never return."

Raoul snickered, "Fine, I guess I should give you two a couple of wedding gifts," he shoved the dagger through my shoulder and quickly sliced Christine's arm.

There was no remorse, so suddenly I grabbed a sword and sliced through his back. Raoul, still lucky enough to survive the impact, exited through the secret passageway. I began barricading the passageway with anything I could find, until my arm gave out. I pressed on the wound and stumbled back to Christine to see that she had found my medical supplies. She blurted out, "You'll have to help me. I have no idea how to-"

"It's okay. I can do it."

"What about your shoulder?"

"I'll teach you first. Just take out the spool and the needle," she pulled out the spool, the needle conveniently attached, "Okay, get it strung good," she took about two feet of thread and pulled down my shirt to get better access. It was a bit strange to have so much of my chest showing to her, but it had to be done, "This is the hard part, now. I want you to poke through each layer of skin no matter my reaction. After that, thread and knot each time," she poked through my skin ever so gently, then threaded and knotted all the way to the other end, making sure each one was tight, "Thank you," I groaned, "Now it's your turn."

I took the needle, gave it fresh thread, and wiped it with alcohol. She winced, then looked at the needle as it pierced her skin over and over, "Look into my eyes," she obeyed me and I smiled at her, "There. Good to go."

"You make it look effortless."

"Well, when you've done it for ten years it gets easy."

She shook her head, than laid her hand on mine, "I still don't understand why you would have to do that. You have had such a terrible life and you don't deserve it."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: YOU MIGHT WANT TO READ THIS ONE! For this chapter I will be switching to Christine's point of view. THANKS FOR LISTENING.**

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Six ~**_

A fortnight after the events of Raoul's torment, Erik had insisted that I get my job back. He was determined that they would accept me back into the opera, and strange enough, they did. However, Raoul was still the number one patron, which meant he would be coming back to see rehearsals again. I did not want to chance another injury, so I stayed in my dressing room with Erik. He had brought my voice back to its former heights in only a week.

I received a kiss after hitting the C 3, which had hurt me and broke the glass vase on my end table. He smiled at me and swept up the broken pieces of glass, "You really are back to perfection. Now, I-"

We were interrupted by a knock on the door and I shooed Erik behind the curtain where my bed was. No one would suspect him there. I yelled, "Come in," and immediately the door had opened. Raoul. That pompous windbag dared to come in my dressing room after what he did to Erik and me, "What are you doing here?"

"Christine, I came to apologize. What happened down there, that wasn't me. I was drinking with my brother and he kept pouring and pouring. I had no control. Please, with everything that I am, I beg you to accept me."

I wanted to accept him, but I already had Erik. I wanted to believe that none of this ever happened, to believe that he was still the little boy who rescued my scarf from the ocean, "You broke my heart, Raoul."

"That bastard made me do it. Believe me, I didn't even like her. I was just trying to stay alive because he said he would kill me."

I couldn't believe it. I never thought Erik would stoop so low, but apparently I was wrong. Maybe I was better off by myself, better off without him, "Erik!" I ran behind the curtain, hearing footsteps behind me.

"Yes?"

At first he was sincere, but when he saw Raoul he glared angrily, "Is it true? You made him kiss that girl?"

"I-"

"No excuses. Answer me!"

He paused, staring at my feet, "Yes," his head quickly rose, "But it was for your own good. People change and I bet if he was your husband, he would treat you like trash. Or maybe even less."

I shook my head and threw his engagement ring at him. I could not believe it, the man I had cared for turned out to be my pain, "We are done, Erik. I am not singing for you ever again. You know, I will never sing, actually, because it will remind me of you!"

Raoul smiled and grabbed my hand. I knew this meant we were engaged yet again.

* * *

The next week was spent sitting in a chair and reading, because when living in a manor one does not have daily chores. Raoul had come home early from his chaperone duty and very gently kissed me on the forehead. I felt like I was with Erik again for some reason. Even though I left him, I felt like he didn't leave me. I felt as though he held onto a part of my heart when I left, "How was the chaperone duty?"

"Alright. Morgan wouldn't be quiet, but that's what rods are for."

The fact that he even brought up using a rod on a child made me sick. Children deserved discipline, but not beatings like animals. That made think of Erik once again. Everything somehow ended up with a vision of Erik in my mind. I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

After I set down the book, Raoul eyed me for a moment, "Can you do anything besides read?"

"All I have is reading. If I sing, then I will think of him."

"You don't have to sing. Why not showing your future husband a little love?"

"What do you mean?"

"The usual. I kiss you, you kiss me, we embrace, one thing leads to another and..."

"No! I won't. I want to wait until marriage!"

Raoul stared at me for moment before taking off his overcoat, "Have it your way."

I sighed. Raoul had turned into a maniac over the course of the week. He insisted on getting married as soon as possible, which was three days from now. I didn't feel ready at all. Thinking back on what Erik said, he was right. People do change and Raoul changed into a horrible, vulgar person. Yet I found myself missing Erik even more.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Seven ~**_

I was crazed. All night I worked on new pieces at the organ and all day I tried to figure out ways bring Christine back. Without her, I was insane and uncontrollable. I had gone back to my old place as the opera ghost, piling the managers with mountains of sheet music to be filed down to size and sent to the maestro. All of my operas were based solely on heartbreak, pain, and anguish.

It didn't matter, but Christine did not keep her promise. She came every day to rehearsals and, naïve as she was, did not know she was performing my works. She avoided every trace of me, staying as far away from her dressing room as possible, staying away from the rafter, avoiding the trap doors, and most especially staying out of the chapel. She still sang, and she did so beautifully. However, something was missing...the passion.

After leaving me she lost all the passion in her song and now they were just notes. I so badly wanted to instill the passion within her, to make her song blaze with fury and heartbreak, the true emotions of the piece. Alas, she hated me. She hated my existence, my trace, everything. This time, instead of just causing commotion, I would cause a disaster.

They had disobeyed me for the last time and now, death is going to happen. I slid through the crevice that led towards the managers office and peeked through the trapdoor on the floor boards to see if any one was there and if so, he would be my victim. I saw Firmin at his desk admiring a sketch of a rather scantily clad woman and I chuckled inwardly. I set my hat on my head and covered half of my face with my cape. Since it was dark outside I quietly used the light he had to set up my device.

Once the explosive was set, I slid it under Firmin's chair and lit the fuse. Everything was going according to plan, but the explosive would only injure him. Sadly, I did not care to kill him. Not only was I losing my mind, I was losing my bravery. I slipped down the trapdoor and waited for the explosive to go off. I then heard him yell, "My arse!"

I chuckled, then went down the passageway towards my stay.

* * *

I decided to listen in to the little conversation Firmin was having with André. I thought it might be of some importance to me, and it truly was, "I don't care what you say, André! Chairs don't just blow up by themselves! I think we should shut down the opera house."

"But Firmin, these are the biggest profits we've ever made. Think of how much money we will have in the future."

"No. I am shutting down this opera house with or without you!"

I couldn't believe it. I would have the opera house to myself. But it wouldn't be the same without my star, my one muse...Christine Dàae. Just saying her name makes me cry sometimes. I then heard Firmin once again, "André, we will be better off if this place is just burnt to the ground."

That couldn't happen. The opera house was my home, my heart. I had to stop this from happening; I tilted my hat forward and climbed through the trapdoor, hearing each of their reactions, "No, please! Monsieur, don't hurt us!"

"Do you know how ridiculous you sound, André? Monsieur Phantom, we could summon the gendarmes. They would be very happy to see your neck on the guillotine."

"Monsieur Firmin, the opera house is everything I have. I am sorry for leaving the explosive under your chair and for all the mess I have caused. But if you burn it, I will have no where to go."

"All the more reason."

"Hear me out," I knew a good portion of the mask was in the shadows, but I still felt exposed, "I can get this opera into working order and you don't ever have to see it again. Just spare my life."

"That is a flattering offer. But I already summoned the gendarmes a while ago," two armed men busted through the door while five others grabbed me by the limbs, "I knew you would show up. It was only a matter of time. Now I have the opera house and the safety needed to further operation."

I glanced at my feet as they threw me into a wagon, each opening guarded by the armed gendarmes. I took a deep breath and tossed the hat I wore at my feet; they stared at me now like I was some strange creature. Perhaps that is true, maybe I really am a strange creature.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Love Untamed ~**_

_**Chapter Eight ~**_

I sat on a stack of hay behind the bars of the prison where my life would soon end. It didn't seem to matter much that I was dying, considering the threats from the families of people who I've killed. _Sigh. _I kept picking at the haystack I sat on and balled what I did have into the shape of a head. I added hair (which was curled hay) to the top of its head and I ripped holes in the front for the eyes and mouth. Only then did I realize that I created Christine.

I destroyed the ball of hay and threw to the ground when suddenly, the gendarme watching me came trough to door, "Monsieur, you have a visitor," I shook my head; no one in their right mind would want to visit me unless it was to seek revenge. But when a woman with curly, bronze hair stepped in, I instantly knew what this was, "You have ten minutes, Miss Daaè."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

I sat there in awe, at the same time, though, I was angry that she left. It may have been my fault, but I could see large handprints on each side of her neck. I felt terrible for actually letting her go, but she wanted to. I felt awful knowing my suspicions were right, "Christine?"

"It is me, Erik. How did you get here?"

"Firmin turned me in. I went insane without you, Christine! I- nevermind. What are the handprints on your neck for?"

She turned bright red, then started to cry into her hand. I could not sit there and watch so I stood and stuck my arms out through the bars as far as I could. She came towards me and kissed each of my hands before wrapping herself with my arms, "You were right, Erik. People do change," she looked up at me with her big, watery eyes, "After Raoul and I got married, I refused to consummate because I was too scared. His brother told him that the wife doesn't have an opinion in the matter and Raoul agreed. He was drinking all day and when he returned from his...duties, he chased me upstairs to our room and-" she shuddered and cried harder, "He was so drunk! He told me we were going to do it whether I wanted to or not. I said no, but he shoved me onto the bed anyway and tried to shove his...thing in me. He choked me when I wouldn't obey and then everything went black... I almost died!"

"Oh, Christine," I found myself crying for her; even though she hated me, I still loved her with all of my heart.

"I don't want you to die, Erik. You're all I have!" She backed an inch away from me and dried her tears with her sleeve, "I should have never left. I miss you so much."

"Come," she came closer and I brought her head in for a kiss. Her lips were still insanely smooth and I couldn't get over the sensation she always brought. How could anyone, even someone as dim-witted as the vicomte, stand to hurt such a precious angel like Christine?

"Your execution is in a week. I really don't want you to die. I need you."

"Christine, I'll be fine," I suddenly remembered the letter I had written and then dug into vest pocket for the envelope. After I arrived at the jail yesterday they locked me in a room and let me write a letter to anyone of my choosing. The only problem was they didn't have Madame Giry on record and wouldn't be able to deliver a letter to her, "Would you do me a favor and give this to Madame Giry?"

"Of course," she accepted the letter from my hand, her tears stopping, "Do you think she can get you out of this?"

"She has done more. I believe she is able."

"Where does she live?"

"Rouen, now. I hope you'll be able to make it in time."

"Hopefully," she smiled, then glanced at the envelope, "I have always loved your hand writing. It is so beautiful."

I smiled, "One, with plenty of time, can master the simplest of tasks. Writing is always a good pass time," writing...music! Only a day in the cell and I had forgotten about music, "Next to music, of course."

She smiled at me again, then said, "I have worked on my voice for you. All those lessons you gave me before I left really paid off."

"I'm sure," she was so happy when she was in my arms and it felt good to know someone actually cared. If I had to, I could finally die happily, "If you don't mind, would you sing for me?"

"Of course," when she began, she inhaled lightly and the notes came flowing out. Still, the passion was missing and it felt wrong.

"Christine?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What happened to all the passion you used to have?"

She paused, but unfortunately the gendarme came in, "Time's up, Madame."

"Alright," she kissed the tip of my nose, then whispered, "I'll deliver the letter as quickly as possible."

I nodded in agreement and the gendarme escorted her out the door. The moment she left I felt dead inside, as if someone had ripped out my soul and tore it into microscopic pieces. I realized that without Christine, my life was pointless.


End file.
